Sleeping Dragon her eyes hold thunder and her blood is magma

Dio is quiet for a moment as she pauses and she scans his reaction, though mostly unsure how to read it. Nothing terrible crosses his contemplative features and the worry she might have overloaded him with something eases. What she, and the others, knew to be true might be a stretch to some in the same way she struggles to accept the things Gyda does. She'd had the proper training for handling non-believers, new wolves, that generations of teachings might look like blind faith. They didn't have history courses. They lived it.

"Our training begins when we are young. Combat is important from the beginning," she says, recollecting her childhood days. She'd never been looked at like anything but a warrior, another wolf in the mix of their life. Perhaps because of chosen path she'd lived a slightly different youth. "We have a few rituals but for the most part, we're not much different from anyone else."

It is, for the most part, true. They have primarily relied on strength and brute force for their successes and to get what they want, a reason they have survived as long as they have from the beginning. Their expansion is proof enough that it works, even if they leave a little destruction in their wake.

"Our language is common where we come from and I know it is not here. Most of our warriors know both tongues but you are not required to," she adds. She learned bother growing up, when her development could absorb easily. Set in his ways, she won't force the wolf to know her own. "You can also talk to Gavriel, if you'd like. Perhaps he can give you more insight."